I had an impossibly perfect evening last night.   Not only did I manage to win two Emmy awards, I may have scored the evening’s best acceptance speech(s).

The thing about winning something and going up to accept your award is that you want to appear casual, yet pithy.  You don’t want anyone, ANYONE, to know that you’ve practiced your speech 8,000+ times in front of the mirror (and could probably repeat it verbatim in your sleep).  Last night, I wanted the audience to know I was speaking from the heart and completely unrehearsed.

Or so they thought.

When I won my first award, my adoring public (uh, both of them) jumped up and down for me.  As I was making the lengthy trek to the stage, I was mumbling my speech under my breath.  Then, of course, adrenaline and forgetfulness takes over. It went a little something like this:

Pause to shake hands with some guy I don’t know.  Wave at another friend.  Keep putting one foot in front of the other.  High-five some woman in a tacky sequined jumpsuit.  Must remember to tell her never to wear that outfit again.  Stop briefly to get picture taken.  Keep walking.  Hit stage.  Remind myself to thank my parents.  Grab award.  Move to microphone.   Cue pre-programmed and overly rehearsed speech.

“Sooooooo, last time I was in St. Louis … four months ago … I had a stroke.  And it sucked.  Suckkkkkkked!  So it’s nice to be standing up here and talking to you, two things I couldn’t do for a while.  That makes this evening’s win just that much sweeter.  Let this be a lesson to all you kids out there that even if your brain explodes, you can still go on to bigger and better.  Thanks to Darren, Carnie and Kevin for the opportunity and for my friend Cris who flew in from California to see me win the gold.”

Now, when I won my SECOND award, it came as a complete shock and I didn’t have a speech prepared.  So, I winged it.

“Wow, I’m about to have ANOTHER stroke.  This is great.  I had a nice run doing webisodes for Halls “What The Chic”, but we recently got cancelled.  But I just found out tonight that if I won … I’d get renewed.  Looks like I’m back for a third season … bitches!”

And the crowd lost their mind.  They clapped and cheered and hooted and hollered. Well, at least both of my friends did anyway.  Apparently, when you add a heartfelt “BITCHES!” at the end of your speech … it sort of punctuates how you’re feeling.   Which was giddy.  Of course I forgot, once again, to thank my parents.  So here’s to you Mom and Dad, I hope I made you proud.

Sorry … I mean … I hope I made you proud, bitches!